


Sweet Summer Child

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Political Jon, Requited Love, post parentage reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 07:06:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17361293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: “It bothers you, doesn’t it?”She bristled. “That you gave our home away for love?” She shrugged. “A little.”“No. It bothers you to think I am in love with her.”Sansa's breath hitched as hope clutched at her heart. "You're not in love with her?"“Sweet summer child,” he murmured, grasping both of her hands as he rose to stand. “Sansa, you are so very smart. But sometimes I fear you miss things as much as I do.”“Well, tell me then!” she huffed.





	Sweet Summer Child

The first night, the night that Bran and Sam had revealed the truth, he had come to her. His tears were still wet on his cheeks as he tumbled into her arms the moment she opened the door to his insistent knocking.

She had barely kept her feet at the way he just sagged against her, a heart-wrenching sob released against her shoulder, his arms tight around her waist, as if he feared he would fade without her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hands stroking his hair, pressing him close to her stomach in comfort.

“I cannot believe it is true,” he choked, shaking his head in denial. “Rhaegar Targaryen, my father…”

“Eddard Stark was your father,” she corrected him quickly, her tone harsher than she meant it.

She felt him swallow against her but he didn’t argue with her this time. Taking a shuddering breath, she continued.

“I’m sure it won’t matter to her.”

Jon slowly moved his back to look up at her, face scrunched in adorable confusion. Immediately, Sansa hardened herself. Bad enough to feel things for him when she thought him to be her brother. Just because he was her cousin, didn’t mean she should continue to feel such things, when he was suffering with the prospect of heartbreak himself.

“What do you mean?” he asked eventually.

“Daenerys,” she responded with a puzzled look. “Targaryens don’t care about incest, do they? I’m sure you can explain to her and you can make it work.”

She could feel the tears beginning to form behind her eyes and she blinked them back, took another calming breath before she met his eyes once more. To her surprise, Jon was smiling at her.

“It bothers you, doesn’t it?”

She bristled. “That you gave our home away for love?” She shrugged. “A little.”

“No. It bothers you to think I am in love with her.”

Sansa's breath hitched as hope clutched at her heart. "You're not in love with her?"

“Sweet summer child,” he murmured, grasping both of her hands as he rose to stand. “Sansa, you are so very smart. But sometimes I fear you miss things as much as I do.”

“Well, tell me then!” she huffed.

Fury blazed through her as he slowly shook his head, that smirk on his lips making her want to growl in frustration. But then, he leaned forward, his lips delicately pressing against her own and she felt her eyes close at the warmth that flowed through her from the feeling.

“I’m not upset because this makes it difficult to be with her,” he assured her, giving her another chaste kiss as one hand moved to cup her face, urging her to look at him. “I was overwhelmed with the fact that loving you all this time wasn’t wrong after all.”

Her eyes widened. “Loving me?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes traveling back to her lips. She felt her tongue slide out to wet them, Jon’s dark eyes following the movement.

“We can’t,” she whispered, reluctantly pressing a hand to his chest. If she didn’t do something now, she knew she would let this become something beautiful and passionate and _messy._ Until the threat of the white walkers was dealt with, and the political minefield of Jon’s parentage was cleared, they couldn’t risk more trouble.

“No,” he agreed, lifting her hand to his lips. “Not yet anyway.”


End file.
